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Saturday, October 29, 2011

The song In My Head.. for a tough young gentleMAN. And I am a fan.

Dylan Smith fought his heart out until it was his time, never bitching about his pain, just hoping for those who loved him to live on in his memory.

December man, I salute you.

Dylan C. Smith 1996-2011

A Picture Says A Thousand Dirty Words

These three winners are grad students at Florida State.

The name of the character that the potzevateh in the middle is dressed as?

Anne Skank, of course.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Great New Product

Animal lovers, set your eyes on this fantastic waste of your money.

The Thundershirt, sure to keep your freaked-out furbag from getting depressed when you leave him alone for a whole day without letting him pee. And it is bullshit.

It's a dog shirt, and an ugly one at that. If involuntary wearing of a shirt did anything to alleviate anything, 95% of Chihuahuas in Los Angeles wouldn't vibrate like they're palsied.

My cat is a typical awesomely entitled furry little fucker. He hates the vacuum, leaf blowers, and anything else that sounds like work. He is a man of leisure who knows his place as king of the castle. Now what, oh what, does Mr. Doda do when some offensive sound pollutes his precious and serene aural spectre? He gets up and moves. The laziest companion animal this side of Morris The Cat gets up and moves to a place free of the offending noise. This solution not only works for him, but also myself, because if I tried to put a fucking shirt on him, he'd claw my bloody eyes out. The cat would be 100% justified in doing so because he's an animal with an independent thought process, and guess what, people? So are dogs.

Also, did you notice that one of these trolls mentioned that her dog and others don't need to be medicated anymore? Dogs need to have their fight or flight instinct well intact. It's what keeps them from becoming a coyote's lunch or a tomcat's bitch. A Rottweiler is supposed to be really fucking annoyed if you stick it in a cage for the 12 hours you spend at work. It's also supposed to bark if there is a threat or one of the cows gets out of order. It certainly doesn't need Paxil or Valium or whatfuckingever. If you wouldn't medicate your kid...oh neverfuckingmind, if you would buy this, you probably do already.

Whether it's Prozac, evil shock collars, or the false hope that the Thundershirt provides, it boils down to a few things- things that are wrong with humans and not dogs. Humans are lazy and self-centered. We want to have a pet when we want him. The "perfect" dog must be quiet when we demand, tolerate solitary confinement for long periods, be terrorized by bratty kids without reaction, able to resist the temptation of delicious-smelling sneakers, and able to withstand any manner of psychological abuse without exhibiting any sign of distress. We reduce social, proud beings to vacant objects and bitch and scream when they show any sign of objection to forced servitude.

Companion animals do try to communicate with us. They struggle when we try to doll them up and become depressed when we lock them up. We deny them everything that is natural to them and yet, they will die for us. We take their loyalty and trust as signs of dependence and weakness when we'd give a man a medal for holding the same values. We learned this week what exactly can happen when a man sees himself as superior to the beasts. Almost 50 of the Earth's finest creatures lost their lives because one man decided for himself that he could have domain over scores of animals that would never naturally encounter each other. It was an extreme example of what millions of us try to do on a daily basis.

We need to stop trying to invent new ways to control animals and learn to coexist with them. We should be honoured that they meet us at the door and care enough about us to bark at the bear in the backyard. Bingo will go mano-a-mano with a Grizzly to ensure your safety and certainly doesn't deserve humiliation as a reward for his brave service.

My cat just brought in a snake, and I'm not going to give him shit for it, nor force him to wear a straightjacket. Why? Because he's not a fucking doll.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Robbing Peter To Pay Pat

In today's financial times, it is certainly difficult to feed, clothe, and entertain a family while managing to keep a roof over head. The once-proud are often found lining up at food banks and are increasingly living without adequate heating and comforts once taken for granted such as internet and telephone service. Today's poverty stretches across all ethnic and religious lines, which may result in a family simply not being able to afford their usual gifts to charities and religious organizations.

However, it is the lack of gifts to the church that Pat Robertson simply finds reprehensible, and here he explains his objection.

In Pat Robertson's eyes, poverty is simply a series of poor management decisions and not tithing is robbing God. But is it really? Churches were built by men and the gifts by common people to them have made some men, like Mr. Robertson, fantastically financially wealthy. Religious adherence has certainly blessed Pat, and I can understand his desire to see the contributions coming in, but Pat's not God- in fact, he's not at all like the God he professes to worship.

The Christ God was a champion of the poor, commanding his followers to feed his flock, that being those too poor to receive God's commands. (John 21:15-17 and many others). As we know today, children who are malnourished often fail to thrive in educational settings. The family that Mr. Robertson is chastising for "robbing God" is not comprised of thieves, in fact, they're obviously nice enough to at least ask if they can put a hold on tithing until they can afford to do so. Tithing is supposed to be a gift to the poor, and they are the poor. It is not supposed to be a collection fund for a mega-preacher's new Porsche.

It could be argued that the tithe is some sort of payment for spiritual guidance, but the Bible clearly states  "freely you have received, freely give". (Matt 10:8) Telling the poor to give money to the rich may be part of the GOP platform, but it's far from in line with the god that they claim to worship, and there are multitudes of verses to support this. Whether you believe or do not, a fundamental part of the Christ story, as well as that of many other prophets and saviour gods is aiding those who suffer. Good works do matter, and if you can't afford to give monetarily, you can certainly aid physically by volunteering at a soup kitchen or whathaveyou.

Pat's selfish attempt at guilting the poor into giving their last dollar to a church building is abhorrent. No God would command this because it's patently absurd. I sincerely hope that this person prays to their God and comes up with the answer that it's far better to be alive and healthy than to go into ruin mailing in contributions to people that Jesus claimed would have less of a chance entering the garden than a camel passing through the eye of a needle.

Pat Robertson is not a holy man, but an opportunist. He has made untold riches exploiting the poor in African diamond mines and right at home on cable television. He is the ultimate preacher caricature, telling the Good News with a hand in the pockets of those just looking for something to believe in. Rev. Robertson takes money from the poor and accuses them of holy crimes when they cannot afford the price for teaching that is supposed to be free.

Even though I don't believe in Pat's god or any other presented before me, I firmly believe that no person needs to be spiritually abused in the manner that Pat Robertson and his cohorts so blatantly do. If I'm wrong and there really is an all-consuming hellfire which awaits unbelievers and the cruel, I am certain that I'll be roasting alongside the evil men who steal in the name of god.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Holy Shit

When one of our forefathers invented this phrase, this is exactly what he meant.

How this broad acquired a PhD is a mystery that may only be solved by her BJ skills.

Quick Question About Grammar

With the number of Conservative men trying to establish combat positions in them, it may become prudent to know whether they are fighting over the uteri or uteruses of others. 

Personally, I'm a fan of uteri.


The Song In My Head

   I was 3 when this record came out, but tracks from Candy-O were still relevant when I was buying my own records. I'm sleepy, but this song will never be tired.


Monday, October 3, 2011

The Song In My Head

  How many of you smoke marijuana? It's kind of a rhetorical question; I'm not doing a survey, but chances are that you or someone you know uses grass to cope with pain or simply relax after a hard day's work.

  I smoke pot. I'll admit it to all of you. I don't smoke a ton of it, and sometimes I eat it. The weed that foreign governments have executed people for possessing doesn't harm me one bit, but helps me tolerate tremendous pain that has resulted from far too many untreated or poorly treated injuries and some not-so-fine genes. Additionally, it does help me unwind, and when I'm calm, I'm at my creative best. 

  When I was a kid, there was a cop who would come to our school to educate us on the supposed dangers of mind-altering substances. He held up a display case of pouches which contained all of the various things we were supposed to be afraid of. There was LSD and crack cocaine and Quaaludes out there for all of the kids to see, with the urging that one should rat out anyone who may possess them. And also displayed were the various cannabis products - grass, oil, and hash- all lumped in with the hard drugs that would surely cause you to turn into a schizophrenic or worse. Some kids giggled and others were truly terrified, but the message got across that drugs- all drugs- were very, very bad.

  Later on that day, when I went home, the phone rang. The voice on the other end of the line said that my mum and stepdad has been arrested for marijuana possession and that I was going to be picked up and everything. Needless to say, 10 year old me was scared shitless. As it turns out, the call was a prank orchestrated by my eldest sister Una. This was a decade or so before the invention of call display and her buddy had called from a payphone. So, I learned two lessons: First, drugs are very, very bad and, secondly, my sister is a sadistic asshole. 

  As it turns out, my parents did indeed smoke grass. My mum was a mechanic and my stepdad an electrician. They were normal taxpayers who smoked herb. And they weren't the only ones. A lot of grownups got together to smoke and bullshit and went back to their jobs doing average everyday things.
And despite all of the tax money wasted on law enforcement, incarceration, and ridiculous propaganda, they still do. Everyone from tired construction workers to the parkinsonian elderly enjoy the bit of relief brought by a weed that has been used medicinally for thousands of years. All of the fear of old has been replaced by an educated public that ranges from college kids to octogenarians who'd rather have a spliff over a scotch and who would like to see government money spent on  apprehending and prosecuting society's true meanies, particularly in these lean economic times. 

  In an age of supposed fiscal conservatism, Prime Minister Harper not only wants to stop attempts to legalize marijuana, but thinks his american buddies will admire harsher penalties for even simple possession. Under the new Omnibus Crime Bill, an AIDS patient who grows pot will spend more time in jail than a child molester, the cost of a pardon will quadruple, and mandatory minimums will handcuff judges and send people away for long sentences in prisons designed for violent offenders. What's more, Canada's facilities are already so beyond capacity that the Elizabeth Fry Society says they violate Charter rules regarding cruel punishment. It should also be noted that, while crime rates are at an historic low, the cost of Corrections Canada has more than doubled since Harper took power 5 years ago. And the tab could get high enough to bankrupt the country.

But Justice Minister Rob Nicholson and his parade of merry big-government Conservatives aren't simply content with tossing granny in the clink, but they seek new powers of Internet surveillance, citizen's arrests, and other grotesque violations of personal freedoms. Yes, if the Big Nick has his way, I could have my home searched simply for writing this post. I'll likely be arrested and incarcerated in one of those privately-run hellholes that you just know Harper is dying to build with taxpayer money. He'll get full blessing from big liquor who'll figure that fear of jail will get us all back to good old booze.

Big-government Conservatism is just as ridiculous as it sounds. It's oppression that's bought and paid for by corporations and their front groups. It uses fear and moral indignation to try and create a mindless, homogenized culture that locks up those who refuse to be subjugated. The new crime bill is not about punishing society's most brutal beings, but terrifying anyone left of completely batshit into submission.

Right now, we're seeing big government crush not only America's liberties, but her economy. Due to ridiculous laws and minimums, there are simply not enough incoming dollars to cover the tab. Penal institutions were never designed to be businesses, and the middlemen-from-hell that run them must be paid, giving worse conditions for more dollars spent.

There's an adage that stupidity is defined by repeating a mistake with the expectation of different results. The Conservative Party of Canada has a front-row seat to the big government shitshow going on down south, yet seem perilously determined to mimic the policies that have turned individual liberties into collective catastrophes.

Legalize It by Peter Tosh. Buy it legally HERE